


Does It Bother Anyone Else When Someone Else Has Your Name?

by allthemagicthings



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Queliot Week, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, day 7: soulmates, idiots to lovers, so fucking dumb, they are so dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 07:45:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19330165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthemagicthings/pseuds/allthemagicthings
Summary: Soulmate AU in which the first Name of your soulmate is tattooed on your wrist. Easy enough isn't it? Not when you're Eliot Waugh.(Queliot Week 2019; Day 7: Soulmates)





	Does It Bother Anyone Else When Someone Else Has Your Name?

**Author's Note:**

> And again a very big thank you to the most amazing beta [kh530](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kh530/pseuds/Kh530)
> 
> I had so much fun writing this it's unbelievable (shoutout to Sarah for letting me scream "they're so fucking stupid for 3 Hours)
> 
> (title is from forest by twenty one pilots)

Eliot let the card slip through his fingers, turned it around, read it again and again. Hee just couldn't get his attention away from the name imprinted on the white cardboard. _Quentin Coldwater_.

  


It had taken him a couple of seconds, had had to reread the name three times before it finally sunk in. Quentin. There was no other word in existence that could fascinate Eliot more than this one, no other word he had read so many times, no other word he loved as much as the name that marked his wrist.

  


The name had always been a blessing, not just because he didn’t have to find the right “John” or “Michael”, but also because it was strange enough for his parents to stay in denial. “That could be a girl’s name right? Parents give their kids all sorts of weird names nowadays. Maybe it’s french.”

  


As usual, everything they had said had been utter bullshit, but it had made them get off his case for which he could consider himself lucky. He, of course, knew that Quentin was not a girl, he figured that out quickly and got used to the idea after the initial freak out. Quentin would be a boy, Quentin was his soulmate, the one he was going to spend his entire grown-up life with.

  


And little Eliot _couldn’t wait_ to meet him. He had been obsessed with it, had scribbled it on walls and tables, into text and notebooks and on one occasion even into a tree. When he met Quentin, they’d do it together, he had thought, they’d run far away and be happy, be nothing but kind to each other, completely different from the was Eliot’s family was.

  


That had been a dumb childhood fantasy, Eliot knew that now. His parents had taught him that a soulmate is the only one you can be with, that God had intended it that way. It had taken him a while to liberate himself from the concept. He had waited for Quentin, he had been lonely and desperate and he thought _if I could only find him now we could run away together and everything would be alright._ In the end, he had to run away on his own. Out in the world it had been easier to find out how things actually worked; if you were lucky you and your soulmate could have an amazing life together, but if you weren’t there were other options.

  


That was what Quentin would be, if he even was the Quentin Eliot had been waiting for, an option, nothing more.

  


The only thing he was mad about was the timing. Why now? Why after a summer full of beautiful nothing, when he felt like his life was right _for once_ , why not back then when he had needed him? On the bad days, the worst days, when he had to look down onto his wrist and think _I have to stay. I have to be there for him. What if he needs me, too._ Logically he knew it wasn’t Quentin’s fault, that he could influence this situation about as much as Eliot could. The mark was what he should be mad about, it was what had given him hope and nothing more, it was what had let him down.

  


It was strange that he might meet the person the name belonged to, now. He had to wonder if it would stop feeling like it belonged to _him._ Well, he couldn’t even be sure it was him. Quentin wasn’t a common name but it wasn’t unique either. It probably wasn’t him. There was no actually way his soulmate would show up now.

  


Just in case, he still choose a seductive pose to greet the boy in (Always gotta be prepared!). He saw him coming from afar, stumbling through the bushes and over the field. Jesus, he was really taking his time. Eliot would have been worried they’d be late, but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the exam Quentin should be taking. Not when he could see more of him with every passing minute. Quentin had longish hair and a messenger bag slung over his shoulder, his eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. It was truly adorable.

  


“Quentin Coldwater?”he asked, feigning surprise. The other mumbled “Uh huh” and Eliot already had to suppress the urge to just coo at him. He was clearly a high strung supernerd- and Eliot had a weakness for those. It still wasn’t proof of him being his soulmate of course, but sadly he wore one of those god damned wristbands to cover up his own mark. Most people did, actually. Eliot used to when he was younger, but he stopped caring a long time ago. Let the whole world know, if it happens, it happens. And if it doesn’t- well it’s a pretty name.

  


Eliot hoped he could find out if Quentin’s wrist had his name on it when introducing himself. Nothing too flashy just a quick: “I’m Eliot” followed by “you’re late”. Quentin looked puzzled but regarding the situation he was in, that seemed like a natural reaction, even without the name-drop of his soulmate. Maybe this was a dumb plan, there was a high possibility Quentin wouldn’t even pass and right now it was hard to determine whether he was _the_ Quentin or not. Eliot just had to be patient and hope he’d make it.

  


He led the boy to his exam with quick steps and it was hard for him to not think about the way Quentin had had to run after him- he was tiny, really, in comparison to Eliot. It would be so easy to fall for him.

  


But love at first sight didn’t exist, not even for soulmates. Christ, he didn’t even know if Quentin was his. The whole situation was utterly ridiculous if he was being honest, but he knew, Eliot just knew, even if he was _the_ Quentin, there was no way it could be love, no matter how jumpy his heart felt. It was too soon, far too soon to be calling it love.

  


Love was something you had to work for, it wasn’t just handed to you like that.

  


Ridiculous musings about love and the mechanics of soulmates haunted him all the way to the exam room. A part of him was almost hoping Quentin would fail and thus guard him from genuine human connection, admittedly, one of his biggest fears. The rest of him was screaming, irrationally, at the entire world to please not take him away. Eliot couldn’t explain the origin of his feelings, so he blamed his upbringing and the naive dreams from his youth in which he would meet Quentin and they would get married seven days later, already in a perfect relationship without any doubt or work put into it.

  


Real life just wasn’t like that.

  


-

  


It wasn’t until three weeks later that Eliot managed to read the name on Quentin’s wrist. Three eventful weeks really, sending Eliot on a roller coaster of emotions from _“he made it, he’s here and he’ll stay here”_ to _“why do I care it’s probably not him anyway”_ and the more than occasional _“Goddamn why is he so adorable”._

  


Most recently, after the infamous moth man had attacked the first years it had been _“Please be okay, Coldwater, I can’t lose you, please be okay.”_ He denied ever thinking that as soon as he saw him walking out unscathed, only a bit shaken, the wristband not in place revealing the word Eliot had so desperately wanted to see. _Eliot._

  


His heart had jumped, but in a situation like that it wasn’t what he could focus on, not when Quentin had barely escaped death, not when someone had just died right in front of his eyes and not when Eliot had to fear for Henry’s life as well. He’d probably rather admit to his crush on Quentin before he’d admit how much he looked up to the Dean, though.

  


When things had finally calmed down, they were both sitting in front of the cottage, sharing a bottle of Apple Cider, talking about everything and nothing and Eliot noticed how natural this felt. He didn’t need to second guess every word he said to bring his persona across correctly. With most other people he had to recharge for a bit, keeping up the act was simply taking so much energy from him. Not with Quentin. With Quentin he could be himself or someone else, whatever he felt comfortable with in the moment, the other boy was in awe either way.

  


Maybe that was what a soulmate was supposed to be. Someone who just _fit,_ in every way. Someone who could love at your dumb jokes and who could listen to your dark history without judging you for it, without changing the image they have of you too much because they have seen who you are, who you truly are, right from the start.

  


He should give in, should take the one good thing the universe had given him. Sure, getting rid of the doubt wouldn’t be easy but Quentin was here, was looking at him as if Eliot was his whole world. He just needed to lean over and press a kiss against those soft looking lips. There was no way in hell Quentin would object to that, Eliot was insecure, yes, but he still had eyes.

  


Quentin wouldn’t object, but Eliot could fuck their whole friendship up and losing Quentin would be so much worse than simply having to pine for him. He could also do the smart thing and just talk to him about it, he knew Quentin had to be aware of his own name on Eliot’s wrist, he hadn’t bothered to hide it. Eliot could pretend he hadn’t already seen Quentin’s mark, could be proper and ask him about it. They could talk it through and then maybe go out together. Eliot had found this amazing little italian restaurant Quentin would love. They could laugh and talk all evening until the sun would settle and they would wander home through the crowded streets of New York City. Eliot would take it slow, only kiss Quentin once, slow and chaste, a peck more than a kiss really, would send him to bed yearning for more.

  


“Are you even listening?” Quentin asked and Eliot could sense his insecurity, even through his smile. Not listening to Quentin was not something he ever wanted to do, really.

  


“Yeah of course, sorry I just got lost in a thought. Please go on.” Quentin kept talking about the Halloween he and his best friend dressed up as Martin and Jane Chatwin and Eliot tried to appreciate Quentin sharing those memories with him properly.

  


At what point would he have to admit to himself that he might indeed have feelings for Quentin Coldwater? He knew that the doubt and denial would slide back into his brain soon and that this moment, the sun shining down on them, their hands mindlessly touching now and then, the refreshing cider making his head buzz just enough to overshadow the nagging, nasty thoughts.

  


This was the moment he could act on it. He had seen the letters, stark black against his skin, clear, unambiguous, irrefutably showing Eliot that this boy is _his._ The thought finally sank in and Eliot relished in how good it felt, how right it was. Now, having gathered the courage at last, he looked up right into Quentin’s eyes, ready to say something, ready to-

  


“Oh, hey guys!”

  


_Fucking Todd._

  


Eliot rolled his eyes, twisting his head and staring daggers at the idiot who had dared to interrupt him. Todd was spouting his dumbass awkward smile, clearly aware that he was annoying them, but for some stupid reason he was _still not leaving._

  


Quentin didn’t seem as bothered as Eliot was, greeting Todd with that sweet fucking smile and Eliot did honestly not understand how he could actually like _Todd,_ He was exhausting really, trying to copy everything Eliot did as if it weren’t enough that he-

  


Oh.

  


Oh no.

  


Oh god please no.

  


Todd’s name was Eliot. Todd was Eliot. Todd was not Todd’s actual first name. The mark on Quentin’s wrist could be Todd’s name. Todd and Quentin got along together pretty well. They could totally be soulmates, they probably were. Eliot was a fucking idiot. He was keeping Quentin away from his actual soulmate. Fuck.

  


“Hey Todd.” Quentin let go of Eliot’s hand, he hadn’t been aware he had been holding it but he _was_ awfully aware of the loss. Todd was one of the people with a wristband, just like Quentin was. They had no way of knowing, not when Eliot had made Todd go by his second name, had kept Quentin to himself. He was a horrible person. He felt sick.

  


“Sorry I gotta go, I, uhm- I forgot I had this assignment.” Eliot didn’t care how dumb the excuse was, how crazed he probably looked when he basically bolted up and rushed back into the cottage. He didn’t even care about hearing Todd say “Huh, I did not know Eliot actually did schoolwork”. He didn’t care about the mixture of their awkward laughs following him inside.

  


He just dropped onto his bed and started moping. There was nothing else to do. Eliot Todd Whateverhislastnamewas and Quentin Makepeace Coldwater would probably figure the situation out pretty soon. They’d probably be mad at him for keeping them apart, he’d lose Quentin, even as a friend and he and Todd would become a happy disgusting couple.

  


They’d probably be engaged in a month and marry as soon as they graduate, move into a suburban house with a white picket fence, adopt 2.5 children and a dog, while Eliot would find his own soulmate in some shady bar, they’d see their names and fuck in the alley behind it, or in the bathroom if the weather was too shitty. They wouldn’t exchange numbers, or meet again, because this was Eliot’s other half and neither would believe in the magic of soulmates, or in a happily ever after.

  


Not the way Quentin did.

  


-

  


Eliot had been avoiding Quentin for several days and it had not been easy. He knew that it was a shitty thing to do, they were friends after all, but soon enough Quentin would abandon him anyway and it was just easier if it was Eliot’s choice.

  


He had seen them hanging out together in the common room on more than one occasion, pretending he didn’t even see them. There was a big chance of them already being together, now that Eliot didn’t know what was going on in the other one’s life.

  


Good for them. They were perfect for each other, Eliot guessed. Two awkward but lovable nerds (if he brought himself to think about Todd that way). They were both so trusting and caring and innocent, not tainted in the way Eliot felt he was. The world hadn’t hurt them the way it had hurt him, they still believed in it, in fate and fairness and magic.

  


He was happy for them. Quentin would have never been able to find that with Eliot, he had given up too long ago. He could find it with Todd. It was good. They could be happy. Eliot could be happy for them.

  


Losing himself in the thought, trying to will the pout out of his face, his mind wandered off only to be brought back by the sound of his door being slammed open revealing a furious looking Quentin. This was fairly unusual.

  


“Eliot Waugh, I think you should explain yourself.” Quentin’s arms were crossed, his foot tapping. Eliot let himself fall back onto his bed with a sigh.

  


This was it. Quentin had found out what he had done, how he had made the other Eliot call himself Todd, how he had kept Quentin to himself for weeks. God, he had hoped they’d just break this off without having to discuss the mistakes Eliot had made but alas.

  


“I’m sorry.” Eliot said. He didn’t get up yet, he knew he was being pretty disrespectful but he just couldn’t bear to look into Quentins eyes. “I really am.”

  


“Okay.” Quentin’s voice cracked and damn did Eliot feel like shit. “And can you maybe tell me why?” It was clear that Quentin was trying to barely holding himself together. Eliot sat up.

  


“I didn’t do it on purpose, or at least not consciously. Maybe I was jealous, I don’t even know and then I just thought it was me.” Quentin furrowed his eyebrows at that. “I know, it’s stupid I mean of course there is no way it would actually be me. I don’t know what I was thinking I was just- I think I liked the idea. God I’m an idiot.”

  


“Eliot.” Quentin said, pronouncing every letter. “What do you think you did?” Eliot didn’t understand. Did Quentin want to taunt him? Did he want him to say what he had done out loud?

  


"I kept you away from your soulmate." He still hadn't manage keeping eye contact with Quentin.

  


"Well that is a weird way of phrasing it for sure, but technically, _yes._ " He finally looked into his face. The anger was mostly deflated by know, it was as if he didn't entirely get what Eliot has just told him.

  


"How would you have phrased it?" Eliot asked, truly not knowing what to expect for an answer.

  


"That you have been avoiding me? Ignoring me? For no apparent reason?" So Quentin did not know yet. That was fair, probably, that Eliot had to tell him himself. As much as he hated it, his heart jumped at the thought of Quentin _missing_ him. Why Quentin thought Eliot avoiding him and Eliot keeping him away from his soulmate were the same thing, just differently phrased was weird though. Quentin could be a bit dense sometimes (in a lovable way) but this barely made any sense. Except...

  


Except...

  


if Quentin thought Eliot was his soulmate. Which, while he was flattered, was just wrong. He shouldn’t judge Quentin too harshly, after all, he had believed the ridiculous idea himself, for a moment. “Q, I think you misunderstood this whole thing, I was just trying to give you room so you could spend some quality time with you actual soulmate-”

  


“Please.” Quentin was shaking his head slightly, his right hand was up in his hair as if he were trying to comprehend something. “Please, for the love of god enlighten me. What exactly do you think is going on? Has been going on for the last couple of weeks?”

  


So Eliot gave in. He told Quentin the whole story, told him how he had made Todd go by his middle name, not considering it might hinder him from finding his soulmate, back when he had met him. He kept talking about the way he had met Quentin and thought, that maybe Quentin could just be his, _Eliot’s_ , soulmate. He told Quentin how he’d debated about the possibility of it being true. He even told Quentin about how he might have caught some feelings for him– right before Eliot had realised his mistake and that Quentin’s soulmate was Todd, even though saying it out loud without his whole body cringing had been really hard.

  


Quentin’s face remained expressionless for the entire time Eliot was telling his side of the story. His face fell when he finished, eyes going wide. “Oh my god.”

  


Eliot nodded. “I know.”

  


“You are so fucking stupid.” Ouch. “Honestly just- How? How can someone be so goddamn stupid?” He probably deserved that, Quentin was right, how could he ever have thought it was him? “I know you have some issues but this is just- this is- Christ, Eliot I can’t even fathom this.” He bit his lip, yes it was fair to say but Quentin could maybe at least try to keep some of his frustration to himself. “What the hell. What the hell Eliot, this whole time I just thought this was a weird way of courting for you-”

  


“I already told you I’m sorry.”

  


“And you don’t even realise, Jesus you still don’t get it, I might have to punch you. I’m sorry Eliot but I think I will need to punch you. I cannot-” Eliot braced himself. It was okay he could take it, he didn’t think it would be this bad but if he caused him this much pain, he should be able to let it out. Quentin sat down beside him.

  


“How am I gonna spend the rest of my life with you?” Wait what? What did he mean? Did he still not get it? They weren’t supposed to be together; why didn’t Quentin get that?

  


“Quentin. It’s not me.”

  


“Of course it is you dumbass!” Quentin looked furious, why couldn’t he just finally get it, why did he have to be so dense?! “Do you think I wouldn’t know? God fucking dammit, El, you are _walking around with my name on your wrist_. What do you think is happening here? There are _two_ couples named Quentin and Eliot coincidentally both at the same campus?”

  


Huh, Eliot hadn’t really thought about that a lot. It still didn’t prove him wrong though. “There could be. Todd could have your name on his wrist, too.”

  


“Yeah because the name _Quentin_ is extremely common.” Okay, now Quentin was just fucking with him.

  


“I mean- there’s Tarantino and-”

  


“I will. Literally. Murder you.” Wow, that was an extreme reaction, to say the least. Quentin seemed to be really set on the idea of having Eliot as his soulmate, even though it just made no sense, even though he and Todd would just fit together so much better. “I know it’s you Eliot, please stop this madness before I have to drag you to a brain scan, just to ensure there’s something there.”

  


“Have you seen it?” Eliot did not want to let some hope back into his heart, he really didn’t. “Have you seen the name on Todd’s wrist? Can you tell me, for sure, it’s not him?” He couldn’t let himself believe again, he couldn’t be disappointed again, he wouldn’t survive losing Quentin a second time.

  


“I haven’t but it doesn’t matter. I know it’s you.” He turned to Eliot, a hand sliding up playing with his lapel. Breathing had never been this hard.

  


“How can you be sure?” Because Eliot couldn’t be. Because Quentin was too good, too bright, too warm to belong to Eliot. Because Eliot knew he would drag him down like a bag of stones and that could not be what fate had intended for Quentin Coldwater.

  


“I can be sure because I am. Because it feels right. Because even if it isn’t, I choose you.” And with those words he gripped Eliot’s tie and pulled him in for a kiss. Eliot should try to back off, he really should, but he couldn’t. It was way too easy to believe Quentin when their lips crashing together felt like fireworks were exploding and butterflies were clapping their wings inside of his stomach, like violins had started playing in the background and the world had been reduced to nothing but him and Quentin. It felt like every cheesy song and romantic movie had described it, unmistakably different from every other kiss Eliot had ever shared.

  


It felt like magic.

  


They pulled away at the same time, catching their breaths, foreheads still touching. “Q, you might be right.”

  


“I know I am.”

  


“I’m an idiot”  


“I know you are”. They started laughing, just finally letting all of this out, the stupidity of the entire situation, the happiness, the love. They were holding onto each other for dear life, lips pressed against wide grins from time to time, just for a quick little moment, another tiny spark. “Also Todd’s first name is spelled with two L’s and two T’s.”

  


The laughing got louder, people outside were probably wondering what the hell was going on, not that Eliot cared. “Christ I _am_ a dumbass.”

  


“You really are, but you’re my dumbass.” It was hard to not kiss him again, maybe do more than just kiss him, but he had made a plan, way before the big misunderstanding. He was trying to do this right, take it slow.

  


“I’m sorry. Can I take you out to dinner later? To make up for this?” He could see Quentin suppressing a smile. He shrugged.

  


“Sounds good to me.” he said as they both allowed themselves to smile.

  


Eliot took Quentin’s hand into his. Eliot had been through a lot of shit in his life. But this time, Eliot chose to believe in love.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked it, comments make my day!
> 
> I have the same username for basically anything so find me on tumblr as [allthemagicthings](https://allthemagicthings.tumblr.com/) and on twitter as [allthemagithgs](https://twitter.com/allthemagicthgs)


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